Doctor Who: Retribution
by Johnathan Strange
Summary: For as long as he could remember the Doctor believed he was the only surviving Time Lord. But there was another. Lieutenant Dakar was nearly killed in the final battle, but he escaped. And now he has taken it upon himself to seek vengeance.


_AN: Firstly I have not read many doctor who fics, so i do not know if this is an overdone piece, you know the whole 'get revenge for the people thing'. But that may also mean i will not even touch on the 'beat the dead horse' ideas. You know those one's... for example every 'Rocky' after TWO. But i may write in one or two through ignorance, and i apologize in advance for that. _

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**Doctor Who: Retribution**

By: Johnathan Strange

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**Chapter 1: Man and Machine**

In the last days of the Time War there was great General who devised a plan that could destroy all of the Daleks. The Time Lords did not want to kill them. The Time Lord were a peaceful race that tried to help and mend. But the Daleks were genetically engineered to be the ultimate killing machines. They had no pity, no mercy, no emotions of any kind. All of their emotions had been removed, all of them save for hate. Making every one of them was an unstoppable juggernaut bent on the singular task of conquering the entire Universe.

And so it was that ten millions ships of the Daleks, the entire race arrived in orbit around the Time Lord home world. They were met there by a Time Lord armada of equal strength.

The first shots were fired.

The battle raged on for many hours. The space around the Time Lord's planet was choked by the wreckage of hundreds of thousands of destroyed ships. Millions died, and still the General hesitated. He was a Time Lord, a peace keeper. His instincts and ethics demanded that he wait until the last possible second before activating the weapon. He must give the Daleks a chance to surrender. They were monsters that killed without mercy, but the General must hold true to his Time Lord heritage. He would never drop to the level of the Daleks. Never.

But then the battle started to turn the other way. Soon more Time Lord ships started to fall. They were losing. The decision had to be made. And it was with a heavy heart and the General pressed the button.

The General had been only recently appointed, up until the last days of the war he was just a scientific doctor. A genius, but a doctor none the less. But then he came up with the idea for the Weapon. And when he presented it to the High Council he demanded that he be put in complete power over every aspect of it's construction and firing. Not because he was drunk on power, not because he had a superiority complex. Well... he _was_ a little arrogant. But the real reason was because he didn't trust anyone enough to hand over the controls of the most powerful Weapon in the known universes. He felt that nobody but him understood its true destructive power. He was afraid that it would be misused. He had no confidence in anyone but himself. But he made a mistake.

It has been sixty years since that faithful day, and he _still _didn't know what went wrong. The Weapon was designed to lock onto the Gorgan engines of the Dalek ships that utilized a nuclear reactor. They had a very unique signature. Then it would lock the engines anti-matter cores into an over-load cycle, thus triggering a self-destruct. But there was a mis-calculation, at first it wasn't apparent. The Time Lords stood in solemn silence as their foes' ships began to explode. As a race began to die.

But then the first Time Lords ship's also began to detonate. There was panic, confusion as more and more of their own crafts were reduced to scrap, their inhabitants killed.

On one ship, named 'The Calm Ocean.' Several small explosions rocked the deck plates as their engines began to fail. A Time Lord; Lieutenant Dakar, the commanding officer of this ships compliment of Tardis' was just making sure the last of his men were running to the escape pods before he turned to escape himself... and was caught by the flaming debris caused by the detonation of the port engine.

He was badly hurt, bleeding, dying, when he regained consciousness a few moments later. The first thing he noticed was that his legs weren't working, and his right arm was torn and shredded. And the blood, oh gods all of the blood. So he dragged himself along the floor toward the Tardis machines with his one good arm, a long red trial left behind him. He knew he would never make it to the escape pods in his condition. But if he could get one of the Tardis machines, he might be able to get out of here. He might have a fighting chance of survival.

Just as the Lieutenant's machine disappeared from the deck, the Weapon reached out its hands of destruction toward the double Sun's at the center of the system, causing them to flare dangerously. In a control room on a the flag ship the General yelled and clawed at the controls of the Weapon, but it was to late. The effects were already cascading toward failure. The Weapon was no longer in control. It had started the ball rolling, but its part was over and no matter how much it was screamed at or how much the General tried, nothing could be done.

The Suns went nova.

The General felt the sting of tears and the crushing weight of responsibility as he watched the endless mass of fire expanding outward, preparing to over take his home planet. Surrounding it in deaths embrace. He stood as long as he could, staring out at the genocide of two races. He had killed them all. It was all his fault. At the last possible second, as the nova was just consuming the ships on the outer edge of the battlefield, the Doctor stepped into a Tardis, but death did not want him to escape, it had plans for him. Just as the Tardis was about to become incorporeal. The ship was struck by the weak and distance edge of the nova, but the Doctor's damaged Tardis still managed to escape.

When the Tardis came out of the wormhole in nineteen fifties Earth, and its disguise sub-routines came online. It was locked into the shape of a police box due to the damage it had sustained. The Doctor made many repairs over the years. But he never repaired the disguise sub-routines, it was almost like he wanted a reminder of his failure. So that he could be sure he would never forget.

-

A Tardis, the second of the only two left in existence appeared behind a Tech-Hospital in ninetieth century earth. Immediately the machine took the form of a storage shed attached to the back of the duracrete building. A moment later a door opened and a young Intern came out into the cool evening air. He breathed a sigh of relief. Today had been a long one, and it wasn't over yet. He looked up and took a second to take in the peace of the sunset before he reached into the pocket of his light blue medical suit. It was stain proof, blood resistant, temperature regulation and it also had a little pocket that was just big enough to store a single energy bar.

Unwrapping the small green bar the Intern threw the wrapper into a recycling can that immediately turned the trash into it's base molecules, and then held them in suspended animation, waiting to be collected and taken off to a recycling center to be rebuild into anything. Leaning back against the wall the Intern quietly ate his energy bar. It was not to bad, a little dry. But it was mango flavored, he could even feel the sand beneath his feet and smell the water of the ocean like he was really there. How had the human race gotten along before Sensor-Food. Feeling the food... brilliant idea.

Suddenly a moan to his left caught his attention. Looking over in the direction of a small shed, the Intern had never seem before, he listened. After a full minute he just chalked it up to the wind. Popping the rest of the bar into his mouth the Intern turned to go back into the building. A loud bang to his left caught his attention again. Looking back at the shed he gasped.

There was a man, broken and bloody. Trying to pull himself out of the doorway. The Intern froze for a second, then he ran over. That second was all Dakar needed. He managed to drag his lifeless legs through the doorway of the Tardis, allowing the door of the camouflaged craft to close, shielding its grand interior from the prying eyes of humanity.

Dakar's mind was getting foggy, he was losing to much blood. Anymore and he would have to regenerate. But he was already in his thirteenth incarnation. A Time Lord could live pretty much forever, but they only got twelve regeneration cycles. After the twelfth their bodies could no longer withstand the power it created during the transformations, and it would tear itself apart.

He was still very young, he had just celebrated his two hundred and forty second birthday with his wife and daughter back home. But the Time War was a terrible and vicious one, he had been killed ten times by those robotic monstrosities. He did not want to die. His family needed him. That's why he came here. These humans, although their race was still young in this era, would help him.

He almost laughed as he watched the Humans running around him, frantically trying to get him into the hospital. He was a complete stranger. By now they had reached other planets and met other races. But here they were trying to save the life of a man they just found. For all they knew he could be an alien tyrant. But that was their nature, they were irrational, but also had kind hearts. In the far future they would become great allies of the Time Lords.

They shared so much in common.

-

Lieutenant Dakar awoke to the steady beeping of dozens of machines. He was staring up at a white ceiling, trying to remember what had happened. He felt around the room with his mind. The Time Lord race had many talents. One of these was a weak psychic power. Mainly it was dormant, but if one learned how to listen they could utilize it. It wasn't the Human idea of psychic power... reading minds and bending spoons, it was more delicate then that. What he had, what most of them had was a kind of danger sense. And not just from inanimate objects, they could feel malice coming from a person meaning to do them harm. He didn't feel any danger here. He was safe for now.

His Tardis, it was reaching out to him. He smiled, it had taken him as its brother. When a Tardis was parted from its own kind or spent enough time with a singular Time Lord it established a special connection with them. The connection was like a family bond and a symbiosis at the same time. The Tardis learned and grew by feeding off of the stray brain waves of the Time Lord. And in exchange it manipulate the Time Lord's mind so that they could understand and speak any language they encountered. It was concerned for him. It was afraid he would die and leave it all alone.

He did his best to console it as he tried to see if he was going to be okay. With a jolt the vision in his right eye came back. He hadn't even realized it had been closed. Then he screamed out as millions of numbers seemed to flash past him. He pushed back off of the table and landed on the floor with a loud metallic 'clang'. His back hurt, but his legs felt strange. It wasn't pain per say. It was more like feeling hundreds of points of pressure, kind of like the prickly feeling of a limb falling asleep. A piercing screech filled the room as the machines registered that the small wires monitoring his vitals had come free when he had fallen. All the noise hurt his ears he heard thousands of voices and noises, like the whole city was in his room. He yelled out again as he felt hands pull him up.

The beings that had him were speaking in a gruff language. Then a second later it snapped into clarity as his Tardis altered his mind.

"Don't worry Mister Rydell, you are in the Norinberg Tech-Hospital." Said a rather old doctor. He had short silver hair and a kind smile. His two nurses, one the Intern that had brought Dakar in, both helped him back onto the bed. His limbs were moving strangely, and the sensations he was getting from them were equally as worrying.

"Mister Rydell, do you remember how you were hurt? I am not the police, but i need to know if there are going to be any complications. After all this is a complicated situation."

Why does this guy keep calling me Rydell? Wondered Dakar. And then the Tardis answered, in its speech of images and sensations it told Dakar it was worried he would not get the medical attention he would need. So it hacked into the medical database and created an account for a William Rydell. It also altered it so that he would get the maximum insurance and thus, the best of care. Dakar was a little blown away, he had spent all of his career handling and growing Tardis machines. But he had never gotten to know one, let alone become bond to one. It was a truly amazing thing.

"Mister Rydell ... William, do you remember how you were hurt?"

After some quick thinking Dakar though it best to fake amnesia. After all, the last thing he wanted was too many questions. "No, what did you do to me."

"Well, for starters my name is doctor Ferman, I was the lead physician on your case." Then he stopped. "Your file says you are a Human from Europe. But your physiology is one we have never encountered before. You have two hearts and from what we can surmise your body temperature hovers around sixty when it should be about ninety eight. And thats not to mention that your blood type is not in our database. Considering we have files on every species on the know worlds... it is very worrying."

"I'm sorry." Said Dakar, pretending to think hard. "I don't remember anything."

Doctor Ferman looked doubtful but he nodded. "Well if there is anything you think of tell us."

"I will. So how am I physically."

"We managed to save you, it was touch and go there for a while but you seem to have stabilized in the last few weeks."

"Weeks!" yelled Dakar.

"Yes, son. You were very badly hurt and because of you unique physiology we had to adapt prototype Cybernetic to save you."

"What?" screamed Dakar throwing back the blanket and causing the female nurse to look away politely. For the first time he looked at himself. At first glance it looked like his normal tanned body, but then he noticed them.

Thin, white scar lines.

One ran across his right shoulder, several more cut across his lower abdomen. And now that he looked for it his skin in certain places was a few shades lighter and had a bit of a plastic quality to it. Reaching down he felt his thigh, and he immediately yelled and pulled his hand back when he felt all of the steel machinery in there.

"William, please try to calm down. In this day and age it is not uncommon for one in every three people to have some sort of cybernetic implant." But Dakar was barely listening, he just figured out that the images he was seeing with his right eye were slightly pixelated.

"How much?" He whispered, as lines of code stared to scroll down in front of his eye again. He reached out his right hand and dumbly waved it in the place where the code should be, as if it might be floating in front of him.

Although his question was fragmented the doctor, having dealt with newly Cyberdized patients before understood. "Seventy eight percent of your body had to be replaced."

Having pulled the blanket back up to his waist Dakar raised both of his hands in front of his face and watched his fingers move. His right arm had been replaced also. Looking around the room he spotted a small mirror by his bed, taking a hold of it with his new arm he watched as the plastic handle crumbled in his hand and the glass fell to the floor, shattering on impact. He looked down, bewildered at the broke mirror. Apparently he was a little stronger then before.

Almost immediately the Intern that had saved him produced another mirror from a drawer on the rolling cart beside the bed. Holding it in front of Dakar the Intern was silent as Dakar searched his face.

His hair, black and still wild framed his face. That was the same, although it was a little longer then he remembered. His green almond shaped eyes looked almost the same, but the color of the right one was a little off. His nose had obviously been broken and was now bent a little bit, unnoticeable to anyone but him. A little relived he realized his face looked pretty much like he remember it, except for the thin scar that now bisected his right eyebrow, disappearing as it crossed his eyelid.

"Now Mister Rydell, there is nothing to worry about. You have been with us for six months. You were hurt very badly. But in my professional opinion you are going to be fine. Now if you'll excuse me i am needed in surgery. If you need anything, anything at all please feel free to ask." Freman paused for a second, waiting to see if their mystery guest had anything else to add. But receiving only a nod he left, the two nurses following.

As soon as the three were out of the room Dakar hauled himself out of the bed and carefully stood. He was having a lot of trouble trying to gain his balance, he felt heavier then he used to be. Then, for some reason he knew he weighted exactly four hundred and thirty pounds. He guessed it had something to to with begin half machine now. It was going to take a little getting used to. Looking around the room he noticed a locker in the corner next to the door. Holding onto the table as long as he could he made his way to it.

When he got there and pulled open the door he found the torn and bloody cloths he had been wearing sealed in a clear plastic bag at the bottom. Tearing it open he searched through the pocket. He pulled out a wallet, useless on earth. A few cough candies and his good luck charm. He held the necklace for a moment. It was simple, nothing fancy. His daughter, Tyleace had woven the thin leather cord, and the small pink pendant was a carved seashell. He smiled, he remembered when she had given it to him when he had first boarded his ship. She had made him promise that he would come back and watch her heliam dance performance.

He had been in this hospital for six months, she would be mad. Tying the necklace around his neck he threw the bundle of ruined cloths back into the bottom of the locker and grabbed a pair of plain medical blue pants from the hanger.

-

Dakar pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool night air. It seemed like it had only been a few hours since he had crawled out of the Tardis, but if what he had been told was true, it had been six months. Six months on an alien planet, but time was nothing to a Time Lord, insubstantial. He would be able to return to his own Home World mere minutes after he left. He looked up into the strange sky and stared for a moment at the single moon. It was much larger then either of the one's he was used to, and the stars were in a completely different configuration. But in another time, another place. Tyleace may be looking up right now, wondering where he was.

A mental tug from the Tardis broke his train of thought, with one last glance up Dakar made his way over to the storage shed that was his Tardis in disguise. When he turned the corner and it came into view he sighed, even the Time Lords could not out run time forever. His poor Tardis was overrun with vines and other shrubbery, almost hidden from view. The greenery must grow faster here. The door had been deeply scored. It looked like the staff had tried several times to break in. But Dakar wasn't worried, the damage was just an illusion, like dirty stucco that hid the machines true form. The Tardis could not be damaged by an ape with an ax.

Looking around to make sure that nobody was watching Dakar easily opened the door and stepped in.

Dakar took a deep breath of the familiar smell of the Tardis. It reminded him so much of home. Not the Ship he had been on, but rather laying on the grass on his Home World, waking up to the soft cooing of his wife still in deep sleep, the simple things. Then it struck him like a hammer. The terrified and strained image speak of the Tardis flooded his mind. It told him how it had been trying to contact the Home World, or the others of its kind, and failing. It was scared and it was was begging him to help.

He calmed it as much as he could as he rushed over to the instrument panel. He started out calmly, slowly and meticulously typing commands and warming up temporal communication arrays. And then the first signal went out. And it was never received. Again and again he sent out the signal, but every time all he got back was dead air. For several tense minutes he clawed frantically at the controls, trying to get some kind of response.

Finally he stopped, there was one option left to him, but he was afraid to use it. He stood in silence, his hands hovering over the controls. Then he slowly called up a connection with the One Library of the Yuhawk People. They lived far in the future, many billions of years. And they had also discoverer Time Travel. But instead of becoming peace keepers like the Time Lords, they became historians. It was one of the Forbidden act to access their library for the use of seeing the future of the Time Lords as a race. If anyone tried they would immediately be stopped by an Enforcer; the police of the Time Lords. So even before he read the report Dakar knew what had happened.

When he used the quantum computer on the Tardis to access the vast store of knowledge and nothing happened he knew right then he was alone. He fell to his knees as a crushing weight descended onto him. Whatever had destroyed his ship, his body had wiped out everything. According to the report the suns were forced into a nova, and the Home World was destroyed. The entire Time Lord race of seventy Billion had been incinerated by the flames. And no regeneration cycles could restore ash floating in the cold of space into a person. He was alone.

Tyleace was dead

His wife, Beneth was dead

Everyone. He was the only one left.

And then he saw it. The General who's name he couldn't remember. It was his fault. His Weapon had destroyed everything. The man who now called himself the Doctor had the blood of his entire race on his hands. He had killed them all and had run, leaving the people who trusted him with their lives, to death.

Dakar was the only one left and he knew what he must do. It was not revenge for himself. He was one among billions. He must do for those who were wronged, for those who died and can no longer pursue justice.

This will not be personal revenge, no. This will be retribution.

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Yes, he has be Cyberdized. But calm down. No he does not have guns popping out of every orifice ready to blow messy holes in the Doctor. Yes he will have some cool devices, but like the Tardis and the sonic screwdriver they are only tools. His real weapon will be his mind. He will try to out think the Doctor. 

Later, JS

_**Please Read & Review**_


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